


The War

by dfqwasthat



Series: Newtmas - The Game [2]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of blood, Violence, War, newtmas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14930156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dfqwasthat/pseuds/dfqwasthat
Summary: Part two as promised. Look at them try to survive and defeat Janson





	1. Escape 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two as promissed. Look at them try to survive and defeat Janson.

Thomas walked through the door to the hospital wing, revealing a room almost identical to the one he’d just woken up in, only this one was much more social.

Soldiers walking around with patched up wounds, some still lying in their respective beds, security engaging in conversations with them, nurses running around, carrying serums and needles, and in the far back – his friends, quietly discussing something without a trace of smile on either of their faces. Their eyes reached his, just like everyone else’s in the room had. He walked over to them intently with one though and one thought only on his mind – _Newt_.

There was a weird aura around the group, and as Thomas rushed over to them, an excited grin on his face, it almost felt as if there was a bubble of grief surrounding them, their unchangingly morbid faces making Thomas’ stomach sink instantly.

“Where is he?” Thomas demanded, looking around the room, refusing to accept or even fathom what he knew need inside had happened.

“Thomas,” Teresa tired, but was stopped by his sad puppy dog look, “he…” she obviously had great difficulty telling him and looked to the others for help, but they just avoided her eyes, “he didn’t make it, Thomas,” finally admitted.

It felt like a punch to his stomach, continued by forced removal of his heart. The shock on his face turned to complete terror as he sank to his knees and started screaming “NO! NO! NO!” over and over again.

“No,” he breathed out, sitting up. Everything around his was quiet and completely dark, the only thing he could feel was his own tears and the weight on his bed shifting.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” warm arms wrapped around him, “it was only a dream, Tommy,” the voice, even though Thomas didn’t recognize it straight away, was comforting and trust worthy and he relaxed into the pair of arms, even though the tears never stopped. “I’m right here, Tommy,” the other boy assured.

“Newt?” Thomas questioned as if it was impossible for his boyfriend to be there, even though he remembered walking into the hospital wing and Newt, completely fine, practically jumping into his arms. Even though he knew it had been just a dream and he truly is right here in his room.

“Yes, it’s me, I’m fine,” Newt slowly lowered their bodies to a more comfortable sleeping position and cuddled the younger boy, stroking his hair, until his sobs turned into slow, even breaths.

The morning rolled around and Thomas woke up to hot sunlight shining on his face from the narrow windows on the upper side of his wall. All of the windows in the facility were as small as possible and completely bulletproof and Thomas hated it. All he could remember was The House, where seeing the sunlight was literally impossible and now he’s limited to it once again.

Newt was sitting with his feet popped up on Thomas’ desk, reading another book, just as Thomas had grown used to finding him first thing in the morning – with a horrible bedhead and wearing Thomas’ clothes.

The two months they’d spent here already had been pretty much the same. Everyone was getting their memory enhancement procedures from Teresa every single day, but Thomas was the only one they hadn’t been working on. Teresa explained it by saying that it was possible Thomas took too big of a swig before heading into The House, as he had no idea what he was doing, but she promised they’d work eventually. _If not now then when? I don’t know, Tom, you have to be patient. No, I have to get out of here._ Janson had been suspiciously welcoming to all of them, even Newt who Thomas refused to leave for longer than five minutes, worried about what his father could do to him. They all ate together every day, but decided on staying split for the rest of the time, worried Janson would catch up to what they’re doing.

Thomas spent most of his free time searching for dirt on his father and making out with Newt, a sense of freedom not only from The House, but also his father. He was sure that with his memories he would never feel so free to show his affections for the blond, especially seeing how nervous it made Newt sometimes. When Janson had come to wake Thomas on one of their first mornings back he’d found them both asleep in Thomas’ bed and, even though the absolute terror on his face had delighted Thomas, ever since that day he wouldn’t let Newt go anywhere alone.

Newt read a new book every day, completely enchanted by the enormous library he’d stumbled upon one day, mostly focusing on survival and maps of the nearby area. His memory had only just started to return and Teresa refused to do the procedure on him, since he’d started to remember all on his own and trying to speed it up would jeopardize it completely. He didn’t mind spending every second with his boyfriend, as long as it kept Janson away. He seemed to be particularly enjoying the showers…

 Minho spent his days training in the facility’s gym, making sure he could run for as long and fast as possible. Gally was studying the armory, practically knew every weapon by heart. Chuck made sure Janson didn’t know what they were doing, the youngest boy was mostly a lookout. Teresa was being Teresa. Medicine and science was her only responsibility. _Keep us alive out there, that’s all you have to do._ Alby was made the superior. Somehow he already knew everything the others were learning, so he mostly trained with Minho and pop quizzed the others in case of, as he called it, separation and other accidents. Getting out of the facility was all on Aris. He’d pulled maps of the underground tunnels that, to the gang’s surprise, reached not only to The House, but also throughout the whole city.

Now all they needed was to escape once and for all.

The plan was quick and simple, but in order for it to work they had to do everything perfectly. Like clockwork. It had to happen at precisely three a.m., so everyone else was asleep and everything was quiet. The building’s blueprints showed several tunnels departing from its core – right in the center of the first underground level. They weren’t sure if the gas that had put them all to sleep was a constant thing in the tunnels, but they weren’t willing to risk it, so Teresa had to find them gas masks. It was Minho’s job to kill the power in the building, right after Aris opens all the doors they need with his they card, since he was the fastest runner and could get to the entrance of the tunnels before anyone realizes what’s happened. Alby’s job was similar – he had to switch the security tapes so the night guard doesn’t realize anything’s wrong. Aris provided them with all the necessary information on how to do it and where to be as well as the security codes. Gally and Chuck would distract the guard by doing Thor and Loki’s “Get Help”. Thomas had to make sure Janson was as far as possible from the execution of their plan, so he spent the day carefully following his plans and the whole evening making sure he’s in his room, sound asleep. Newt packed supplies, food, water, medicine, clothes, anything that was vital to their survival.

At precisely quarter to three Thomas, Newt, Teresa and Aris were standing outside the entrance to the tunnels, hoping Alby had done his part. As soon as he’d arrived they put on the gas masks. At 2:59 Aris opened the entrance and they waited for the power to be killed, which happened at precisely three a.m., shortly followed by Minho running over to them. Now they just had to wait for Gally and Chuck to get back. They had three minutes, but everyone knew they’d wait if they took longer. It took them seven minutes to get to the rest of the gang, because they’d decided to take a detour to the armory. They arrived with their hands full of rifles and amo.

“Are you fucking insane?” Minho punched Gally’s arm.

“What? You don’t know what’s out there!” Gally exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Aris hissed with a raised finger, “can you hear that?”

There were footsteps and voices, and Thomas was pretty sure he could see a faint glow of flashlights in the distance.

“Go, go, go!” Thomas whisper-yelled, shoving everyone inside the tunnel while Teresa helped Gally with his gas mask, “faster,” he ordered, shutting the door behind himself as he was the last one of the group.

“Isn’t there a backup power server?” Teresa asked Aris.

“Yeah, but it takes twenty minutes to turn on. They won’t be able to open any doors for about half an hour.”

“Good, but we still need to run,” Thomas stated, walking through to the front, grabbing Newts hand and beginning a jog as Chuck shone a flashlight so they could see where they’re going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with high schooooooool!!!
> 
> I have the whole summer to devote to Newtmas now.
> 
> Thank you for your patence and....more coming soon!


	2. The Run and Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wholesome morning turned into another escape mission.

Their climb out of the tunnel and into the real world resulted in a pang of refreshing, but cold air hitting their lungs and raising goose bumps on their skin. They knew the priority was to get out of sight and spend the night in warmth before heading to the leader of the opposite side his father was on, and that didn’t seem too hard as they’d stolen camouflage tents from the WCKD soldiers. They had two tents and a couple of sleeping bags, but it was clear they’d have to share anyway. The limited food and water supply made their decision for them to keep moving first thing in the morning.

As most of them started walking towards the bushes in front of the tunnel exit, Thomas noticed Teresa and Aris falling behind. They appeared to be staring into the distance. All Thomas saw at first was a couple of distant lights, but upon walking closer to the pair, Aris’ words became audible and sent chills down his spine, “…they’ve been shooting them down with flamethrowers as soon as they get close to it,” Thomas heard Aris whisper to Teresa as he finally saw and heard the actual view in sight. In the pitch black darkness of the three a.m. night he could barely make out the enormous walls built around what he could only assume to be The Facility. People screaming distantly as one of the little lights flew towards what looked to be a protesters’ camp, which had already been set on fire.

It fueled pure hatred and disgust in the pit of his stomach, because he realized it was his father doing this. His own blood.

“Guys?” Alby’s voice rang through the darkness, calling to the three of them, “holy shit,” he gasped after a few seconds of looking into the distance and apparently having seen the same thing they had.

“Are those…” Newt trailed off, having turned around himself, just like the rest of them.

“People on fire?” Thomas offered angrily, “Yeah. Sure are. God, that HEARTLESS BASTARD,” he finished the sentence with a monstrous yell, feeling Newt’s fingers firmly on the back of his neck.

“Come on,” Newt ordered, but sympathetically and turned Thomas around, dragging him along so he wouldn’t have to watch, “please don’t listen,” the blond cooed, moving his arm to Thomas’ shoulder protectively, but, as nice as it was, Thomas couldn’t tune out the distant screams.

They found a patch of dried grass right on the edge of a forest, big enough for the both of their tents, in between the bushes and scrubs and right under some thick pine trees, and far enough so that they couldn’t hear the screams. Newt and Thomas volunteered to share a sleeping bag, so did Minho and Alby and Gally and Chuck, leaving the last two bags for Teresa and Aris. Thomas didn’t find sleeping in the same tent as Minho and Alby too difficult as even when either of them did snore, it was too soft to be annoying. Plus being cuddled closely by his Newt made everything better, even if sleep came rarely and lasted for no longer than thirty minutes.

When he woke up from another dream he couldn’t remember (they were still horrifying, but he had mastered the ability to hide them from Newt most of the time) once aging, he decided it was pointless to try to fall asleep again, so he opened the zipper on the tent to let some fresh air in. The morning air wasn’t much warmer than when they’d gone to sleep, but the pinky-yellow sky sure made it worth the couple of trembles that ran through him.

It was the first proper sunrise he could remember, or at least the first he hadn’t seen by trying to sneak a glimpse through his tiny bedroom window.

“Pretty, eh?” Minho’s voice startled him.

“Yeah,” Thomas huffed a laugh, “I wonder how many of these I’ve seen before.

“Actually a lot,” Minho whispered so as to not wake their snoozing tent mates, “you used to make me and Teresa come along when you sneaked out to these just so you’d have a reason to watch them with Newt. It took you guys years to finally admit your feelings to each other. You were both really bad at it.”

“Well that sounds embarrassing enough. Good thing I can’t remember that.”

“It was a damned day when we were 14 and he realized he was gay for you. I started the most painful three years of my life,” Minho laughed as Thomas punched his arm.

Thomas felt butterflies in his stomach. As if hearing this made him fall for Newt all over again, “And?”

“And he made the first move, so you lose. Although, he did choose the worst possible time and place.”

“Janson caught us?” Thomas predicted. He refused to call him dad. He refused to even feel related to that rat.

“Immediately, dude, you never made it to kiss number two.”

“Fucking buzzkill,” Thomas laughed, getting a sip of water from the bottle Minho was offering him.

“That, among other things he is,” the Asian boy laughed along, making Thomas giggle harder, which was extremely difficult as they were trying to be quiet.

“Good thing I’m not letting him slip away again,” Thomas turned around to make sure his boyfriend was still sound asleep.

“Thank God, no one could survive that again,” Minho muttered, earning another, stronger punch from Thomas.

“Morning, shanks,” Gally greeted them, obviously having just woken up.

“Nice hair, shuckface,” Minho nodded to Gally’s spectacular bedhead.

“Have you seen yourself, fashionista?” Gally retorted and Minho grabbed his own head in a dramatic conveyance of shock.

“I don’t like sleeping like this. I’m getting war flashbacks from that one night back in The House,” Alby’s sleepy voice joined the conversation. He had sat up and was now rubbing his eyes absently.

“We don’t speak of that night,” Gally, Minho and, to Thomas’ surprise, Newt chanted.

“Morning,” Newt’s husky morning voice greeted Thomas, as the others laughed at the remark, before its owner wrapped his arms around the younger boy and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Hi,” Thomas marveled, sinking into the blond’s embrace, his bad mood completely washed away by the amazing friends he once again realized he has.

“I honestly think talking about war flashbacks is kinda disrespectful with everything that’s going on,” Aris announced.

“Oh, it’s highly disrespectful,” Teresa affirmed, making everyone laugh heartedly.

“Why are you all so loooud?” Chuck’s displeased groan rang from the other tent, making Teresa ruffle up his hair as everyone laughed again. The whole scene before him seemed so perfectly domestic, it was easy for Thomas to forget the horrors outside their little bubble.

“Stop,” Alby squatted down suddenly, making everyone confused, fading smiles still plastered on their faces. He flailed his arms and winced as anyone asked him what had happened. He put a finger to his mouth to indicate his request for silence before mouthing “soldiers” and pointing into the direction of the tunnel exit.

Thomas silently got up to get a glimpse behind the tent, and there truly were half a dozen soldiers walking through the desert area right outside the forest in which they’d found solace, dressed in all black with black helmet-like headwear, shiny guns glistening in the barely risen morning sun. They were obviously looking for something or someone, and Thomas knew it was them being seeked. As steadily as he could, he got out of Newt’s protective grasp, got on his knees and crawled out of the tent while being angrily eyed by Alby. He reached for a rock from the ground big enough to break something with its weight but also light enough to throw.

“Get everything,” he whispered to his friends who eyed his suspiciously, “quick, trust me.”

As they gathered the sleeping bags and food back onto their backpacks, the soldiers had gotten dangerously close. Thomas knew there was no choice but to leave the tents. They couldn’t possibly assemble them back quickly and quietly enough. He shared a look with Minho and mouthed “The Run and Go,” hoping his friend would get the plan he was eager to execute. He was happy to find that a quiet understanding of what they were both supposed to do surpassing between the two boys. He looked to Newt and whispered “get them away, we’ll catch up.”

Newt’s eyes didn’t fail to mimic the distress they all felt, but he knew there was no convincing Thomas otherwise. He knew Thomas and Minho’s plan. The others just had to follow Newt. The blond pulled out a map and examined it quickly, pointing to a blue spot that marked a small lake further into the forest and whispering “Three minutes.”

“Three minutes,” Thomas promised and looked into his watch as Newt lead the others into the forest and towards the lake as fast as they could with all the bags on their backs.

He watched the timepiece on his wrist carefully, giving Newt and the others head start to get away before telling Minho to go exactly a minute later and getting ready to aim. He grasped the rock that had already become warm in his hand and saw the perfect target mere 20 meters in the direction of where Minho had run. There was a flock of birds sitting by a broken-down tree. If he hit the right spot on the tree it would scare away the birds. Another perfect throw and he could break a couple of twigs. Making a sound loud enough in the echo-y forest for his father’s soldiers to hear.

The first throw successfully frightened the birds, but the second only made a thud against the tree bark. He carefully glanced to the soldiers who were slowly, but surely curious of the reason for the birds’ sudden departure. “Come on,” he whispered to himself, taking a couple of seconds to aim another shot which he successfully aced.

Now the soldiers were convinced of someone being there and since they couldn’t risk letting Janson’s son get away, they moved in to where the cracking of the twigs had come from. Sure, they’d eventually find the tents and know they’d been here, but by then they should be far away and, hopefully, untraceable. Minho was about to scream his name any second now from somewhere deeper in the forest, misleading the soldiers yet again, before running into the opposite direction, towards Newt and the rest.

He smiled, seeing them rush away from him, quickly got up, ready to run into the forest. He’d felt so delighted with himself that he hadn’t even noticed the last soldier remaining right behind a bush. Right in his blind spot. He squatted back down, mimicking Alby’s reaction to the soldiers just a couple of minutes ago, but the sudden movement had apparently gotten the last man’s attention and he was now approaching Thomas.

Feeling a wave of panic and anxiety approaching him, Thomas felt totally helpless and lost. As far as he could remember, it had been Newt to bring him back, but now he was all alone, hidden behind a bush, freezing in the shadowy spring morning, about to be killed by one of his own father’s mercenaries. He breathed in and out as deep as he could and decided to do the only thing he could. Run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hi, I'm back. Posting on time. Who even am I?   
> I hope this part two is as interesting as the first one and, trust me, there's a loooooooot on the way.  
> Thanks for reading, thanks for shipping.


	3. Out of the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is being chased through the woods.

His lungs ached and there was a very prominent cramp n his foot, but he kept on running, too afraid to look back and check if he’s even being followed. He felt as if in one of his nightmares. He’d been running through a maze, as far away as possible from something he hadn’t even seen. But he could hear it. Distant gurgling and screeching. And it was getting closer bu the second. He could almost hear it now, too.

In a way the forest seemed like a maze as well. He knew he was running in the right direction, but it was the direction that lead the soldier to his friends. If he made a turn not only would he possibly get rid of his chaser and protect his gang, he would also most definitely get lost. He assumed being a boy scout had never really been an interest of his when he’d been a kid.

The forest was becoming darker and thicker, letting through less sun rays, and Thomas’ instinct of turning and abandoning his safe route to Newt kicked in along with the lack of light, hiding him from sight, but the snapping of twigs beneath his feet surely did no good to him in the still quiet of the forest.

With a quick glance back he couldn’t really see much behind him, but he could barely breathe and he was sure he could taste the tang iron in the back of his throat, so, as soon as he saw a thick bush below one of the weirdly scary pine trees, he dived into it, ignoring the thorns that ripped through his jacket into his arms and face. He listened for any signs of another set of footprints, which was hard considering the pounding of blood in his ears and his own heavy breathing.

It took him a good minute or two to finally steady his breaths, but his hands were still shaking and he was afraid his legs would have a hard time supporting him if he was to ever get up again. Honestly, growing old and dying alone in the middle of a beautiful forest didn’t sound like the worst idea right now. No one had approached him and he couldn’t really hear or see anyone. He knew here was a chance of someone hiding and waiting for him to come out just to jump him and take him back to daddy, but he also wasn’t sure anyone was ever following him. He might have lost them a long time ago.

Carefully and as quietly as he could he got up from his comfortable hiding spot, his thighs were already sore from the running and made him wince with every move. He looked around for anyone or anything. There was no one. He listened in hop of not straying far from the rest of his friends. There was nothing but birds chirping.

He wasn’t even sure which way he’d come from, but he knew he shouldn’t stay in one place for long. Especially if he was alone. So he headed to his right, thinking he’d seen those trees before.

He’d been walking for about twenty minutes and he was starting to get restless. He really did not want to be headed in the wrong direction. He was desperate to get somewhere. Either to his friends or back out to their make shift campsite. He was getting panicky again, and for as long as he could remember Newt had been the only one who’d managed to calm him down. He was terrified of getting lost, but he was trying to push it down as far as he could.

Another twenty or thirty and the forest was making him sick. At this point even going back to The Facility and his father was better than looking of the green wall ahead of him. “NEWT!” he found himself calling out before he could stop himself. He slapped his hands to his mouth and his eyes went wild as he stopped to listen for someone who could be running to him, having made sure it was him. He was so angry at himself. That was so careless. Now anyone near him could find him in a heartbeat. _Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

“TOMMY?” someone yelled back and he knew the way his nickname sounded in his boyfriend’s mouth all too well not to know it was him, “TOMMY!” he yelled again. Thomas knew Newt was being just as careless as him repeating his name, but he also understood his sentiments, having felt the desperation to see him again and the fear of never getting to.

“Newt,” he breathed, following the direction which he though the sound was coming from. He wasn’t sure once again, though. The echo had made it hard to make it out. He wanted to call out again, to make the older boy answer, but it was dangerous. He was close. So close. Just a jog away.

His aching legs carried his exhausted frame further and he could see the forest getting lighter and the trees thinner until a glistening of light caught his eyes. He was almost sure it was a hallucination until his tired brain eventually realized it was a lake. The lake. “Newt,” he whispered airily, remembering their agreed meeting point.

“Jesus Christ,” the blond was rushing walking up to him and Thomas hugged him eagerly, wrapping his arms so strongly around his boyfriend he thought he might snap his neck, but completely oblivious to the equally strong grip tied around his waist. “Nearly gave me a heart attack, you bloody idiot!” he pushed his away, but pulled his right back and worriedly asking “what happened?” while examining his ripped skin from the goddamn thorny-ass bush.

“It’s fine, just a scrape,” Thomas felt his tone so pathetically lovey-duvey, it, mixed with the heart eyes he was surely sending Newt, made himself cringe.

The others had joined them at the edge of the forest now and he was glad to see Minho had already returned, “I’m so fucking happy you’re alive,” his best friend tapped his shoulder.

“Trust me, so am I,” Thomas managed to get out before sitting down on the ground, making the others look at him worriedly. “My legs hurt so much, oh MY GOD!” he exclaimed, assuring his friends he wasn’t dying or anything.

They joined him on the ground, protectively sitting around him as if someone could just come and swoop him away. “We really need a plan,” Gally insisted.

“Agreed,” Newt affirmed after no one said anything. Thomas had a feeling the blond actually liked being in control. Well… He knew that for sure. Better than anyone else, in fact. “We need to get to the rebels. They’re our only hope now. We have no shelter, our food’s running out... we’re running out of options.”

“Yes, but no one even knows where they are. It’s literally like chasing the shadows,” Teresa reminded.

“Not if you can talk to the shadows,” Aris smirked.

“Okay, it’s finally getting interesting,” Gally smiled back.

“Finally?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, pointing to his shredded arm.

“Oh, come here, you big baby,” Teresa pulled out her med kit and started patching him up.

“Thanks,” Thomas smiled shyly, not used to being babied, but thankful nonetheless.

“Right, no, let’s get back to you,” Gally said, nodding his head towards Aris.

“Yeah, man,” Aris shrugged, “we know their whereabouts,” he said simply, making every head turn to him. “We’ve been keeping tabs on them,” he nodded, and everyone else just stared at him. “At least I know where they were a week ago.”

“You do?” Chuck looked shocked.

“Well, unless they’ve moved.”

“Knowing our luck,” Thomas smiled ironically, “Ow!” he winced because of something Teresa had put on his wounds.

“Shut up,” Teresa laughed and bandaged him up.

“Well, however sketchy is may seem, we have to get to them,” Alby finally spoke, making Thomas realize how much he’d missed the calm and centered voice of his.

“We need to find somewhere to sleep first. And food,” Newt reminded.

“Yeah, but before that,” Minho got up and took his shirt off, “I really miss showering,” he announced, running into the lake in nothing but his underwear.

“Yep,” Gally followed suit, pulling up Teresa and practically carrying her into the lake despite her protests. Chuck and Aris shared a questioning look, but apparently decided to join as well.

“You guys coming?” Minho yelled from the lake.

“Can’t!” Thomas shouted back, raising his bandaged arm.

“That’s okay, I like you stinky, as well,” Newt laughed and pecked Thomas’ lips, but he pulled him in for a longer kiss instead.

“That’s okay, I like you naked,” Thomas smiled victoriously, “go.”

“Thanks, babe,” Newt beamed, already having gotten up and started taking his clothes off.

“Yeah!” Thomas cheered, letting his eyes shamelessly travel over all the dips and curves on his boyfriend’s body he knew so well, “I’ll just be here on the lookout.”

“Cheers!” Newt grinned and headed over to the rest of them, leaving Thomas to finally sit and rest, watching his friends have fun and admiring their carelessness. He could barely take his eyes off Newt. The blond looked so relaxed and happy and Thomas wondered if he’d ever seen him that way outside of his locked bedroom. He watched Teresa masterfully shove Gally under the water after he’d tried to do the same to her, but had obviously failed, her laugh melodious and familiar as if he’d known it all his life and could place it any time. Minho’s laugh was hard to miss as well as the tall, toned boy splashed around in a way that looked like a total juxtaposition of what someone would assume he’s like judging by his (rarely) serious face and muscular frame, but it was loud and echoed in the tall trees. Chuck, Thomas noticed, finally looked his age, having been deprived of his childhood, Thomas was glad the youngest boy could finally have one. Even if it was just for a couple of minutes. Aris and Alby seemed to smiling, but Thomas couldn’t quite tell. Their faces didn’t seem to have that function as a standard, so it looked almost weird.

But Thomas couldn’t help but check behind him once in a while. He didn’t want to be the paranoid little party pooper, so he just kept his nervousness to himself instead of hurrying everyone and asking them to get dressed and keep moving. But the uneasiness never left him and he was kind of glad he was left in charge. That way he could at least feel like he’s protecting everyone.

After at least an hour they were back on track – dressed and ready to go. Thomas kept close to Newt, terrified of straying away from the boy, and Newt didn’t seem to mind, grabbing Thomas’ hand whenever he could. His legs were still sore from the running, his mouth was dry, even though he ignored it, knowing their supply was limited, and his stomach rumbled, which he hid masterfully by talking over it, but he was relieved they were finally back on their way. They stopped every time someone noticed blueberries or strawberries, just because those were the only kind they were sure weren’t poisonous, and because they helped the thirst and the hunger simultaneously, saving the actual food and water for when they’re desperate.

By sunset they’d made their way out of the forest and onto a sandy road that lead out of the city. As their new refuge they chose the first building they saw on their way, although it looked on the verge of falling apart. It appeared to be an abandoned shopping mall, and they were just glad they’d found a roof over their heads. The one thing they were all thankful for is that it probably had some canned food and bottled water somewhere.

By nightfall they’d made themselves comfortable in an old, but incredibly convenient furniture store, taking up all the beds, no matter how springy the mattresses. “We should keep heading south,” Aris concluded, studying the map with a flashlight. As lovely as it was staying in a place like this, it was a huge mall and they were all obviously creeped out by it. Albeit it was the best thing they could ask for and they were just happy to get a decent night’s sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the Taylor Swift reference. It had to be made. I love her too much.  
> Thank you once again for reading and I hope I can keep it interesting enough for y'all.


	4. Separated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> three words. Eight letters.

Morning came far too early, the light disturbing Thomas from his deep slumber, and the sitting up reminding him of how much he’d run the previous day. To say that his muscles were sore would have been the understatement of the century, and the dehydration was making him making aware of itself as a horrid pain throughout his skull. He rubbed his eyes before taking in the view in front of him. The daylight made the furniture store look far worse than it had in the dark, but it was still much better than any of them could’ve ever hoped for. Most of the furniture had been destroyed, probably in a riot. There were very few things that had managed to survive, luckily, including the windows as the night air had almost frozen them in their tents.

Everyone was still asleep apart from Gally and Teresa, who had disappeared from their beds, and Newt, who was walking around the store, examining everything in his way with great interest, but never leaving the store itself.

“Since when are you waking up before me? And since when do I not wake up in the middle of the night, sweating?” Thomas laughed.

“Since you started kicking me in your sleep,” Newt smirked, making his way back to the bed and flopping himself down onto it, “nightmare?” he asked suddenly serious, yet it was hard for his boyfriend to take him seriously as the his head was resting in Thomas’ lap and he was smiling a stupid happy little smile as Thomas dragged his fingers through the blond hair.

“I don’t know,” Thomas realized, “can’t remember.”

“That’s good, yeah?” Newt frowned, noticing Thomas’ unsure expression.

“I guess,” the younger boy shrugged, “well, except for the kicking part. I hope it doesn’t hurt too bad,” he whispered and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend’s soft lips. God, he’d missed this. The simple, warm, comfortable bliss of the two of them just being together.

“Not anymore,” Newt smiled, laying there and looking like a kitten asleep in the sun.

“Cheesy much?” Thomas teased, earning a playful punch his leg in return. “Ow,” Thomas tried to laugh as quietly as possible in order to not wake the others, “where’s Tess and Gally?”

“Dunno, they were gone by the time you kicked me awake,” Newt said nonchalantly and it was now Thomas’ turn to punch him.

“I hope they went to get water,” Thomas rubbed his temples.

“Not by the looks of it,” Newt nodded his head to the entrance to the store behind Thomas.

They were carrying tin cans of beans, meat, pineapples slices, jars of honey and sun-dried tomatoes, cheese and some other stuff they thought couldn’t get spoiled. Thomas had never been that thankful to see food. Or Gally. Were those pickles there in Teresa’s hand? They had failed to get water, but ti didn’t matter as everyone was up in a matter minutes, since Minho’s excitement for food tended to be kind of loud, and they were feasting on supermarket goodness without a word. The berries they’d had just a few hours prior apparently didn’t really keep any of them full for long.

After their makeshift breakfast Thomas and Newt volunteered to get water while the others helped Aris figure out where exactly to head next. The rebels. That was the plan. Not that they even knew if they truly existed.

“Do you think we can actually win against him?” Thomas asked as they were walking through the surprisingly dark halls, hand in hand, partly for acknowledging the intimacy they had, partly because an empty mall was creepy as hell.

“Well, if anyone can – it’s you,” Newt squeezed his hand reassuringly, stopping abruptly to look at a mall map, “think the food court’s over here,” he pointed to an area marked in green.

“Alright,” Thomas obliged, smiling to himself at his boyfriend believing in him so mundanely. As if there were no to thoughts about it. As if it made the most sense in the Universe.

They found the food court in no time and there was an old taco place that was stocked with bottled water. And with some several months old ingredients they wanted to get away from as fast as possible, so they just grabbed as much as they could carry, chugging a couple of bottles themselves first, and headed back.

As they chatted and joked on their way back to the store, they heard an ominous creaking sound from the high ceiling above them. There was no way that could be good, but they barely heard it and they had a long way to go back, so they just hurried up instead of worrying.

“Your heroes of the day are back,” Newt announced, making Thomas laugh yet again, and handed out bottles.

“There has never been anything better than bottled water. It is a blessing we don’t deserve,” Alby chanted before chugging a bottle down without even taking a breath.

“Impressive,” Teresa rolled her eyes dramatically, throwing her second empty bottle into the far back corner of the store.

“Hey, guys, we should really go,” Aris said, watching the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” Chuck asked, noticing something was off.

“There’s been a cracking and creaking up there all night. I couldn’t sleep, I though the ceiling would collapse,” Aris admitted, still looking upward.

“Yeah, we heard that, too,” Thomas nodded, growing increasingly more worried, feeling his heart become faster with every beat, getting hot and breathing heavier by the second until Newt’s hand seamlessly slipped into his, as if the boy had some psychic ability to tell when Thomas was going into a panic attack. His heard steadied, his brain could think straight again. It was as if nothing had happened. Even if they blond himself was anxious, he did his best not to show it and it helped Thomas immensely.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Alby looked up, and it kind of seemed as if he was trying to convince himself rather than the others.

“Wait,” Minho put his finger up and stood perfectly still. There was an unmistakable rumble coming from the ground.

“Is the building collapsing?” Teresa demanded.

“No,” Gally looked at Minho in utter shock. Aris was shaking his head, too, and looking behind the rest of them.

“They’re here,” Minho stated as Gally nodded in agreement.

“Shit,” Thomas said, looking around the corner and seeing the all too familiar black-masked soldiers. He barely managed to gather his stuff like the rest of them before he was being pulled away by Newt.

They turned a corner after a corner and ran in the most random directions, following Minho in front of the crowd. They had no idea how to get out. The exits had seemed to disappear. There was no doubt they were all terrified and far too exhausted to do this, but the adrenaline was starting to kick in and Thomas felt Newt and Gally take the lead, pulling Teresa and Chuck along. He didn’t mind, though. If anyone was to make it out, he wanted it to be Newt or Chuck (since he was the youngest).

There was something weird about the halls, Thomas could tell. He ran up to Minho to say they’d run here already and he stopped in his tracks, wincing as he tried to catch his breath. Newt, Gally, Teresa and Chuck had already gotten a few meters ahead when they noticed the others falling behind.

“It’s the same round over and over ag-“ Alby yelled to their friends in front of them, but was interrupted by another loud creaking sound and then the ceiling coming down right in front of them.

“NEWT!” Thomas panicked instantly and scolded his boyfriend when it had taken his several seconds to affirm he’s alive.

“We’re all fine,” Gally’s voice assured.

“Run. Get out of here!” Newt ordered.

“What the shuck? No!” Minho yelled back, “not without you guys.”

The rummage between them was only see-through in small holes in-between the bricks, stones and metal rods, but it was enough to see Thomas was alive and generally fine.

“Seriously, they’ll come for you. Just go!” Teresa said and Thomas could see Alby and Aris about to try to convince them to go. He probably knew they should somewhere deep down, but the idea of leaving the others to their own seemed absolutely ridiculous. There was just no way.

“Get out before they catch you, you morons,” Chuck yelled.

“We’ll meet you at the rebels’, just go,” Newt said in a much softer tone, squatting down to look through one of the holes, he coughed Thomas' eyes and paused for a second as if deciding what to say. “I love you. Now go!”

Thomas nodded slightly, feeling as if he could do anything in the world. Feeling like he was high. This was it. This was the only cloud nine he could have ever imagined. “I love you, too,” he promised and turned to follow Alby who had already started heading in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing this at two am. There must be typos. I don't care. I'm so tired, bros. 
> 
> Here you go. The I love you. It's about damn time, eh?


	5. The Rebels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang is split up and have to find The Rebels in order to achieve their end game.

"Go! Go! Go!" Alby yelled, shoving Thomas away from the ruins, but his head refused to turn, instead keeping his eyes on his boyfriend's face as long as he could, not knowing when the next time he'd see him would be. It pained him - the look on Newt's face - the blond was obviously trying to put on as brave a face as he could, but Thomas knew him too well not to see the sadness and fear behind his beautiful smile.

"Run, shuckface!" Minho yelled from the front of the group, having taken the lead. He appeared to know where to go and Thomas realised that since the boy had had better luck regaining his memory he probably remembered the halls from before The House.

"Where are we going?" Thomas yelled, his body barely recovered from the previous day's endevours, hoping the running would cease soon. They were going back to where they'd just come from and that meant the soldiers were bound to run into them soon.

"Out," Minho replied breathlessly, turning another corner and changing the route from the one they'd preciously taken, the rest of the remaining boys dollowing suit.

_Out? What do you mean out?_

Thomas was convinced they'd at least try to help the others get out safely, but noone else having the same reaction infuriated him, "We're not helping them?"

"Thomas, it's impossible. There's no way out without an employee key card," Alby explained, stopping just like Thomas subconciously had.

They all looked hopeless. None of them even wanted to try. How was that possible? It was them. Them! Teresa who'd risked her ass by getting them out of The House. Chuck, who was just a fucking kid. Gally who tended to be helpful - well, to be honest, Thomas didn't care for him much. And Newt. Newt! 

_Newt._

"Can we please just try?" Thomas begged. He knew he looked and sounded pathetic, but his brain just couldn't let it go.

"Look," Aris tapped his shoulder, still catching his breath, "I know you love him and want him to be safe, but if we get captured there's no saving anyone. We'll all be killed and your dad will put you in a make-shift brainwash camp. So just save your own ass first for once in your life and then think about others. Please."

The boy had a point. Thomas had never thought of it that way. He usually took measures into his own hands in order to help his friends, but now when someone else was in charge, teying to help him, he didn't know how to feel. So he just nodded slightly, looking down in shame of his mindlesness, and continued jogging along the glass windows until they finally reached an exit.

The appointed soldiers had obviously and expectedly gone to investigate the implosion that had surely made a loud enough noise to be heard from anywhere in the nearby area. The thing that bothered Thomas about that was that upon uncoveding the collapsed ceiling they'd find his friends.

"There is a chance they can get out, you know," Aris said, obviously trying to cheer Thomas up as they were finally seated to rest about two miles away from the abandoned mall, "the magnetic readers might be corrupted. Or the lack of electricity could have cut them off."

"You really think so?" Minho's optimistic hopefulness made Thomas look up, too. 

"I mean, yeah, why not? There was no electricity in the rest of the building, so they could probably get out through there."

"Wouldn't the doors automatically lock if there's no power?" Thomas asked, still kind of sceptic about the theory.

"Not necessarily. Depends on the door," Aris' face looked as if the realisation had only just crept upon him, "they could be out already."

Thomas jumped up without thinking, but the others already knew what he was hoping, "sit your ass back down, we're not going back," Alby ordered.

"Fine," Thomas sighed, "but can we at least get to The Rebels? Teresa must know where they are, right? They could be heading there to meet us right now!"

Everyone else was hesitant to get up or match his optimism, but nontheless ready to follow Aris' instructions as the boy lead them through the abandoned city. Thomas had no actual memories of walking through it, but he could imagine people filling the streets, cars and bikes busying the highways, the sound of life taking over the howls of the wind that were the only thing they could hear now.

"Where exactly are you taking us?" Minho asked Aris once they'd stopped at yet another intersection. The yellow signal on the traffic light was still blinking creepily. Almost as a reminder that people used to need it every day and now no one even remembered of it's existance enough to turn it off.

"Are you even sure you know where to go?" Alby asked, his voice too tired to sound bossy or annoyed like it usually did.

"Yeah," Aris said hesitantly, looking to both sides as if trying to decide which way to go. To Thomas it looked quite like he had no idea and was just guessing, hoping for the best. The boy finally decided and lead them down a street to their right. They were heading straight West, the orange setting sun shining directly in their eye level, making it extremely difficult to see.

They kept on and on, and at one point Thomas felt like Aris was just screwing with them. That he had no idea where to go and wanted to tire them out and leave them, but as the buildings grew smaller and the creepy, abandoned city turned into a creepy, yet less abandoned suburbia, it actually felt like they were getting somewhere.

The fancier, bigger town houses looked empty - lights off, windows shattered, doors kicked in. But the further they went, the smaller the houses got, until they reached a street with mostly bungalows. And to Thomas's surprise, there were people. Lights in the windows. Actual comotion. Even laughter.

"We don't want to be seen," Aris warned, "I'm pretty sure they have weapons."

"If they don't see us, how are they supossed to help us?" Alby looked confused.

"They're not. They're supossed to survive," Aris almost sounded irritated and kept moving along the shadows, avoiding being seen as much as possible.

"Aren't we trying to get to them?" Minho asked, watching the adults in the distance gather the children, shimmying them inside the houses as if sundown was the curfew.

"They're not The Rebels," Aris explained, "they're the survivers."

That caught Thomas's attention. There were survivers. Normal, mundaine people who were just trying to stay out of trouble, unharmed by the damage his father had caused.

"We have to keep moving, though," Aris sighed and Thomas noticed how tired the boy looked. It was clear to see he was used to spending his days working in The Facility, running miles upon miles and fearing for his life was absolutely new and terrifying to him.

 The kept walking until not only the people but the houses disappeared, leaving only another deserted field, demarcated from the forest by train tracks. As soon as they reached them, Aris stepped right on them and turned left, walking between the rails.

As odd as it seemed to the others, they were too exhausted to find anything weird anymore and just went along with it, following the boy.

Thomas knew Aris was trustworthy, but the hour they spent on the railway was slowly changing his mind. It seemed pointless and aimless and it was starting to irritate him. Where was he taking them? There was nothing but sand and sky in front of them. Even the trees on their right seemed to have given up and the forest was almost transparent.

Aris had said that he was only that sure of The Rebels' whereabouts, but he'd let them all hope and that's what bothered Thomas the most. He was not only hoping to get help from them, he was also hoping to see his friends already sitting and waiting. He could almost imagine plotting and scheming with Newt and Minho again...

"Oh, finally," Aris sighed in relief, "I promise the way looked much shorter in the maps."

Thomas was confused. He didn't see anything in front of them. There was nothing there but a desert, a bunch of stars and...an old cargo train.

Their pace fastened as thet hurried to reach their destination. A faint, orange glow made its way along the sides of the train, but before they could reach it they saw a couple of frames jumping off of the still train and walking towards them. As the distance between grew smaller Thomas noticed the massive guns pointed right at him and his friends. The other three boys had apparently noticed the same thing and had stopped, Alby's arms stretched out to stop them in case someone decided to keep walking. When he was sure they were still, he slowly raised them, yelling "we come in peace!"

But the strangers only kept running towards them, still pointing the large weapons right at them, shouting "Down on your knees! Hands behind your head! Down on the ground! Now! Go!"

They obeyed, reasonably frightened, their only consolation being that they weren't dressed like Janson's soldiers, even though their faces were covered.

"Who the fuck are you?" One of them - a woman and by the looks of it the one in charge - demanded.

"We mean no harm, we just want your help," Alby stated, taking the lead once again, but it didn't seem to help. 

"Why would we help you? How do you know about us?" The woman asked again. She was dressed in all black and a leather jacket, her voice wasn't exactly angry. More strict and firm. One of a real leader. Her bright blue eyes looked almost evil and paired with her perfect ponytail made her look like a textbook villain.

"We used to work for WCKD," Aris stupidly blurted out, obviously regretting it the next second as the seven or eight people in front of them aimed their guns.

"WAIT! WAIT!" Thomas shouted without thinking, only to grab everyone's attention and decide to say the only thing the he thought could help, "I'm Thomas Janson. I can help you take down my father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiiii! I'd like to start by appologizing. I failed to post a new chapter last week and I don't know if anyone even noticed, but in case someone did - I'm sincerely sorry. I was working on something for my friend's birthday and wasn't in the mood to write. Plus I broke my computer charger a few days ago and had to write this on my phone so that was p interesting. Anyway. I'm back. Fo sho. You can expect weekly Newtmas from me until I say different. K, thanks and I'm sorry again.


	6. Persuasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has to convince The Rebels to trust them.

“Talk,” the young woman, who appeared to be in charge, demanded after having her men grab them and throw them into one of the carriages. It was dark and smelled of mold and metal. The last carriage was obviously meant for this sort of situation and not actual living.

“Uh,” Thomas winced, blinded by the lights they were shining into his eyes, his tied hands didn’t help much with avoiding them, “I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory, I think. We can help.”

“Jesus,” he could practically hear the woman roll her eyes.

He’d snuck a glimpse of her in-between getting thrown onto cold, hard steel and getting blasted in the eyes by what seemed to be a fucking beacon. She had removed her mask so he could see the whole of her face, even if for a second. She was young. Very young. Seemingly far too young to be a leader of this make-shift revolutionary anarchist gang thing they had going on. If they were really prepared to take down modern day Hitler, shouldn’t the boss be someone other than a teenage girl, no matter how scary?

“A plan? Weapons? You’re his son, do you have people on the inside? Anyone in WCKD?” she asked in an annoyed manner.

“Oh, uh, no?” Thomas felt guilty.

“Right, so let me get this straight,” she moved around the small room, walking over to a corner where Thomas could see her shadow rubbing its forehead with its hand in disapprovement, “you come to us telling us you can help take down your…father. But you expect us to do the work. Yeah?”

“No!” Thomas protested immediately.

“Oh, so you do have a plan?” she was trying to corner him. He knew it, but he couldn’t get out of it.

“No,” he admitted.

“That’s what I thought,” she said and sighed a couple of seconds later, “fucking untie them. They’re too dumb to be double agents.”

“I mean that’s just not fair,” Minho mumbled before grunting, apparently having his hands untied. The rebels turned off the bright lights, finally letting them look around. There were about ten people dressed in all black and mostly leather, leaving Thomas unnerved. A couple of others were gathered around to watch the interrogation, but the leader was leaned against a wall, just monitoring them. There really was something scary about her. She kind of reminded Thomas of Theresa only less nurturing and friendly. “Hello there,” Minho smirked at the young woman and Thomas prayed he hadn’t made everything a billion times worse. She pretended not to have noticed. Thankfully. Thomas wanted to punch Minho at this point.

Thomas rubbed his wrists, trying to relieve them of the scratchy burning left by the ropes, and swiftly got up, despite the ache the rebels’ aggression had left in his leg. Damn, that made him thing of Newt. “Look,” he turned to the leader, “we might not be prepared to fight him right this second, but we’re allies. We’re quick and smart. We can help. We want to help. No one wants to take him down more than me. Believe me.”

The others behind him had gotten up as well. “How do I know that for sure?” she asked skeptically.

“I get that his blood flowing through my veins might be a reason not to trust us, but it burns, you know. It repels me. I hate him to my core. Yes, you can’t know for sure. But trusting us is probably your best chance.”

“How come?” she crossed her arms in front of her, and it almost looked like she was softening up to them.

“Because you’ve had years to take him down and no one’s gotten anywhere yet, have they?’ Thomas raised his eyebrows, realizing he was probably being rude, but knowing he had to stick to his shtick as there was no turning back. He had to convince her, “besides I can’t remember anything from before a month ago, so if you’re afraid fatherly memories could compromise my judgment, don’t sweat it,” but that just confused her, “he locked me up and played mind games with me. He took my memories. He took my mother. He took my boyfriend,” he stated, knowing perfectly well that that wasn’t the complete truth, but it made his point, “there’s nothing I want more.”

“Even if it means him dying?” she seemed genuinely interested now.

He thought for a second, but it seemed more like a dramatic pause as his eyes never left hers, “Especially if it means him dying.”

She nodded slightly, her eyebrows drawn together. She was still not entirely convinced, but she seemed to be opening to the idea of them helping. Possibly even slightly impressed. “Fine,” she sighed and jumped out of the carriage to head towards the front of the train, but continuing to talk so that they’d follow, “The name’s Jackaline. Do not call me Jackie, I’ll snap your neck.”

“Aggressive, I like it,” Minho winked at her.

“Just like all the guns I own,” she looked at him as if he was just a speck of dust and she had no trouble crushing him. Which was probably true.

“Alright,” he seemed to pull back, but his face was still just as determined, “so, tell us, _Jack,”_ he continued, emphasizing the nickname, “what is this place?”

“It’s our dwelling. For the moment,” she explained, “it’s pretty good, so we’ve been staying here for longer than usual. We’re moving soon, though, so I guess you should be happy you found us when you did.”

“Yeah, real lucky,” Alby nudged Thomas and looked at him as if to say that she was insane. He did have a point. Holding them at gunpoint, tying them up and interrogating them like war criminals was hardly considerable luck.

“Don’t patronize me from your high horse. You guys are definitely no better. No one is anymore,” Jackaline looked over her shoulder as she kept walking along the surprisingly long train. Faces would pop up from the metal crates and containers to either say hello to her or to look who the strangers were. There was laundry drying on ropes strung between a couple of the carriages. The whole dwelling was mostly lit by torches and candles hung in jars. If he hadn’t been constantly alert about everything around him and if Newt would’ve been there, Thomas would find the whole place quite romantic.

“You guys can stay here tonight,” she pulled open a heavy-looking door to one of the metal containers near the front of the train, “I hope you’ve got sleeping bags in those backpacks, but I can check for backups,” she said, lighting a bunch of candles she’d pulled out of a bag Thomas hadn’t noticed earlier.

“I think we’ll be good,” Alby assured, “thank you.”

“Uh huh, don’t get soppy, bud. See you in the morning. Start working on that plan of yours first thing tomorrow,” she said in a way that made her sound like a strict nanny and sort of comforted Thomas.

“Man, I like her,” Minho announced.

“Really? Didn’t notice, you dipshit,” Alby punched his shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for? Ass!”

“You can’t keep it in your pants? She was obviously not interested in you, but you just kept on annoying her,” Alby was trying not to yell, whispering loudly instead.

Thomas tuned this all out, knowing someone kicked Minho for his dumbness was enough. He just grabbed a sleeping bag out of his bag, sharing an eye roll with Aris who hadn’t said a word ever since getting ‘captured’ by The Rebels. He didn’t feel like talking himself anymore either. He’d done his job convincing Jackaline to trust them, even though he didn’t expect her to actually fully trust them. Not yet, at least.

He got into his sleeping bag just like Aris next to him, listening to Alby and Minho quarrel like an old married couple until he couldn’t take it anymore and just yelled, “Minho, shut the fuck up. Alby’s right. Just go to bed, shanks.”

That shut them up almost immediately and Thomas fell asleep about a second after his head hit the hard ground, making him finally forget the sleep deprivation, the tired muscles, the stress, the pain of having to leave his friends behind and the thankfulness he felt for finding The Rebels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Failing to post on time once again? It's more likely than you think. But here it is, so yeey, I guess. I'm gonna stop making excuses in order to preserve the last bits of my integrity, but summer's been surprisingly busy, so you might have to expect some lateness from yours truly.


	7. Shots Fired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has to make a choice.

The morning was announced to them by Jackaline banging on the steel door and pulling it open, the loud squeaking almost painful to their ears. It was a sunny day, but the cold didn’t fail to hit as the fresh air entered their small, dark sleeping space. Thomas was glad not to have experienced trouble sleeping. He was also glad not to be able to remember his fream as he was sure it would’ve been something unpleasant, taking to note all the negative thoughts he’d had lately.

“Morning, boys, rise and shine,” she exclaimed, jumping into their wagon and placing a bottle of water on the floor between them, “keep yourselves hydrated, we’re getting to work ASAP, please get dressed. I’ll be in the front,” she said quickly and jumped back out to leave before anyone had even began to fathom what was happening.

“Right,” Aris shook his head, getting up, as Alby rubbed his eyes sleepily and Minho just kept lounging, ignoring everything around him. Thomas grabbed the bottle, immediately chugging about a half of it, “sorry,” he managed to mumble breathlessly, realizing others were probably as thirsty as him, if not more, “I’m sure we can ask for more.”

”I don’t think we’re in a position to make demands,”Alby stated, folding up his sleeping bag and shoving it into his backpack. “Dude,” he kicked sleeping Minho slightly, “Minho, get up, come on.”

“Shuck off,” the sleeping kid murmured and turned to his other side, visibly falling right back to sleep.

“Gracious,” Alby muttered, leaning down to unzip Minho’s sleeping bag and pull it away from him, much to his protests.

“Come on, Min, we gotta go,” Thomas shoved his own sleeping bag into his backpack and tossed it into the far corner and jumped out of the carriage, embracing the chilly morning air, “I’m gonna head to the front already,” he announced, leaving the others, but seeing Aris follow suit.

“You don’t think they’ll hit us with shovels, fry us and eat us, right?” Aris asked seriously, his voice actually trembling a bit.

“What?” Thomas looked back at him, registering the worry in his voice, “no, of course not, why the hell would they?”

“Well, they’re called The Rebels.”

“Yeah, and not The Cannibals,” Thomas’ eyebrows drew together in confusion at how that idea could have even come into his friend’s head, “Jesus, Aris, way to be a buzzkill.”

“Sorry, I just don’t really wanna be eaten, you know.”

“No one does,” a girl’s voice announced itself before she was even visible, “why? Who’s gonna eat you?” she asked, jumping out of the second carriage from the front.

“No one,” the boys both answered quickly. So quickly there was no way it wasn’t suspicious.

“Alright…weirdoes,” she laughed, “I’m Brenda. Bren if that’s too long for ya,” she smiled brightly and extended her hand to shake in such a boyish manor Thomas found something very appealing of it. She seemed free-spirited and extremely friendly. Not to mention probably not too big on the caring front. Much like Jackaline. Only slightly nicer and smilier.

“Bren, I can hear you out there, can you go check if they’re getting up?” Jackaline’s voice rang from the front of the abandoned train.

“We are,” Thomas affirmed.

“Most of us,” Aris rolled his eyes, looking back to their wagon and making Thomas laugh, but right at that moment Alby and Minho jumped out of it and started bickering.

“Oh, and this is Sonya,” Brenda said as-a-matter-of-factly, nodding her head to a blonde girl welding something behind her.

“Sonya?” Minho asked, obviously having heard the name, leaving Alby looking at him dumbstruck as he was in the middle of fighting with him. He was looking around as if to find her, he reminded Thomas of a bird, rapidly searching.

The blonde girl who was about to greet Thomas and Aris stepped out into the sunlight and looked over to Minho in the distance, covering her eyes from the bright sun in order to see the boy, “Jesus, Minho?”

“No Jesus, just Minho,” he laughed and rushed over to hug her as everyone else around them watched them in confusion.

“Alright,” Alby glanced at Thomas, “what?” he looked baffled, Thomas shaking his head as if to say he had no idea what’s happening. Minho was smiling like a lunatic when they pulled apart, looking around to his friends and Brenda, watching them curiously.

“It’s Sonya,” Minho pointed at her, holding an arm around her shoulder, “Sonya!”

“Oh,” sudden recollection dawned upon her, “how is he? Is he here?” she started looking around, searching for someone and sort of resembling the same long-necked bird Minho looked like just a minute ago.

“Who?” Thomas asked, looking to Alby for reassurance to not knowing what the hell was happening.

“Oh my God, Newt!” Alby’s face caught the same view of recognition.

“Newt? What? What?” Thomas was surprised to hear his boyfriend’s name said by someone other than his brain.

“Oh, come on, Thomas, you remember my brother,” she rolled her eyes with a lovely, kind laugh, coming over to him and hugging him.

“Oh, Son, he doesn’t, you know, remember anything,” Minho winced.

“What, seriously?” she asked, looking to him, “his own son?” she turned back to Alby and Minho.

“Can someone please tell me what’s happening? Newt has a sister?” his arms were seconds away from flailing around in frustration. He only now realized she had the slightest British accent which she kept well hidden.

“Yeah,” Minho laughed, it’s funny, I’d completely forgotten about her existence.”

“Same,” Alby nodded, “I guess the old mem’s not completely restored,” he laughed weirdly.

Sonya laughed at that, “Oh, gee, guys, thanks.”

“Hey,” someone called out to them and Thomas was barely able to tear his eyes away from Sonya to look at who it was. She just looked so much like Newt he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and pretend it was him. The resemblance was actually striking. “You guys wanna start doing something?” Jackaline’s voice was annoyed and impatient.

“Right,” Thomas cleared his throat and turned to follow Jackaline, avoiding even glancing at Sonya as soon as he’d managed to look away.

“So, what did you have in mind?” she asked, leading them into the first carriage on the train, only instead of a locomotive it was another metal cargo crate. There was a table in the middle of it as well as photos upon photos of people, most of which Thomas had never seen in his life, but he did recognize that about a half of the pictures were of his father. One or two even of himself. Plastic boxes lined the wall to their right, probably containing more evidence or blackmail material. It looked like proper spy work. He couldn’t decide whether to feel impressed or terrified.

“Well, for one we were wondering how many people we have. Approximately,” Alby took charge.

“Three, four hundread,” Jackaline shrugged, “but that’s just the train. We can pull more.”

“How?” Minho asked.

“The outskirts of the city. Everyone that lives there is ready to fight. Other rebel groups all over the country. We’re constantly in contact with the biggest of them. If there’s a plan – they’ll be here.”

“Which puts us where?” Alby insisted.

She shook her head, thinking, “three thousand, maybe.”

“Jesus Christ,” Aris exclaimed, “seriously?”

“Yeah,” she nodded as if it was no big deal.

“We won’t need all of them,” Thomas stated, looking over the pages of paper all over the table, looking up to find everyone looking at him questioningly, “we just need to take him down. He calls the shots. No one else will fight for his beliefs.”

“Well,” Jackaline crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall, “I’m guessing as his son you want to keep him alive,” she looked at Thomas with blame in her eyes and he didn’t really know what to respond, “and since therefore we can’t shoot his brains out in front of everyone, I’m gonna have to declare war. If he dies – he dies, but at least you won’t have to feel guilty,” her tone was so mocking it almost made Thomas sick. Did he want his father to remain alive? He didn’t want to be a murderer, that was for sure, but it’s not like Janson didn’t deserve it. “Or are you maybe…not a pussy? And can actually see that what he’s done stands above your daddy issues?”

“Wow, calm down, demon lady,” Minho warned.

“You know I’m right,” she rolled her eyes, “come to me when you have a plan,” she said, turning to walk away, “or better yet,” she turned back to the four boys, “come to me when you’re ready to fight.” Minho stared after her in awe as she jumped out the metal box and headed for the back of the train.

“What the fuck just happened?” Aris looked confused, bewildered and a bit angry.

Thomas felt sudden rage inside him. How the fuck could she just judge him like that? What had he ever done to her? Asking for help and trust out of nowhere was a bit extreme, sure, but surely she realized Thomas was her best chance, so he jumped out himself and headed in the direction she’d just gone.

“Hey!” he yelled, making her turn around abruptly, the slightest bit of surprise in her face, “you may not know us, but there’s no point of throwing tantrums over nothing. What did I do, anyway?” yelled, walking towards her. When she didn’t answer, he just kept on going, “we can help each other out. You may not see it that way, but we’re here to assist. No one wants to take your little rebel queen status away, if that’s what’s got your panties in such a twist, trust me,” he wasn’t sure where this sudden rush of self-confidence had come from, but it was intoxicating and something in him had tipped over and now all the things that were eating him up inside were stilling out and Jackaline just happened to be the one who gave him the last little nudge. “I want him to burn for what he’s done just as much as you, if not more. I couldn’t be more ashamed of him. And I’m scared to death, you know. He’s taken so much from me already, I’m not letting him do the same to others.”

Jackaline just stared at him. It was hard to tell whether she was impressed or pissed, but she didn’t get the chance to let Thomas know as behind her a group of people were rushing over to the train, yelling something inaudible, but, as they got closer the word “help” became distinguishable and Jackaline charged for them in top speed, closely followed by Thomas who had no time decide on what to do, just let him limbs make the choice for him. _What if it’s Newt?_

It was a group of their own. Either sent out to get food and water or check on the families still living in their homes in the near area. He saw their leather and all-black ridiculously badass apparel and knew it wasn’t his friends. Knew it wasn’t his boyfriend. What he also knew is that something was wrong. Three of them were bleeding. Dozens of other inhabitants of the train jumped out of their current homes to see what all the commotion was about. Some rushing over to see. Thomas didn’t know how their little community worked, but he was sure they had some sort of a doctor. Their version of what Teresa was to him. He stepped aside, but remained close, in case he could help. Jackaline, the leader that she was, immediately got to work, sending people to get water and yelling for Mary, whoever that was.

A few seconds later a women in her forties rushed out of the train with a bag that looked a lot like one doctors usually carries around. “Mary,” Jackaline stated the woman’s arrival, her voice loud, but strangely calm. She stepped aside, letting Mary do her job, and walked over to one of the other men that had returned with the injured ones, talking quietly.

“They were shot,” Sonya stated, having appeared next to Thomas, and he hadn’t even noticed, “by the soldiers,” she said and looked around as if making sure they weren’t anywhere near. Thomas couldn’t help but feel guilty. Everyone here knew who he was and they was looking at him. He’d despised his father already, but the man somehow found a new way to make himself more resentful in his son’s eyes.

Minho, Alby and Aris had reached the scene, as well, looking terrified as Sonya filled them in as Jackaline walked over to them, but Thomas spoke before she could, “Shoot him, my father, in front of everyone. Make the last seconds of his life degrading. Show him how much his own son hates him, it’s the only way,” his friends were looking at him as if he’d lost his mind, but Jackaline just smiled proudly, “he will pay for everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's a chapter. I've decided to stop promising you guys weekly updates as I'm clearly failing hard at those. But I'll try not to skip more than a week. Anyways, here's more of this.   
> Jackaline's character is inspired by my friend snackthatsmilesback. She's awesome and I love her.


	8. Suicide

Weeks went by slowly. Painfully slowly. Thomas spent every waking second looking out for Newt or with Jackaline. The plan had come to a finish, but Thomas could not be any more nervous about it failing or going terribly wrong. Eventually they rendered Minho and Alby unnecessary due to Minho’s annoyingly crap flirting and therefore their constant bickering.

He ate his meals sitting on the curb on the edge of his and his boys’ wagon, watching the horizon and hoping – praying – for Gally’s annoying face to appear, or Teresa’s expectable mess of a hairdo. He couldn’t believe how much he missed them.

Every day when the squat sent for food and water returned he would hope to see them carrying along four limp, dehydrated bodies, which would be terrifying to death, but at least he’d know where they were. _Where the fuck were they this whole time?_

There were many theories of that flowing through his head, each scarier than the last. He almost missed the memory loss, just so he wouldn’t have to feel the pain in the pit of his stomach. He missed his friends even more.

“Thomas, this is the only way,” Jackaline said for about the hundredth time.

“I just… this could go wrong instantly,” Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You give us the signal and everything goes down. That’s all there is to it. It’s too simple for it to go wrong,” she assured with a smile, “it’s perfect.”

“Or we’re delusional,” Thomas fell back into a chair.

“Or we’re genius,” Jackaline smiled viciously.

“Doubt that,” Thomas sighed so she doesn’t hear, “anyway, it’s that time of the day when I go watch the patrol boys run back here,” he announce, getting up and stretching his neck.

“Got a thing for my boys, ay?” she smirked.

“Just the one, remember?” he pointed at her and jumped out the train to go for a walk.

After she realized there was no harm in letting the four of them into their little community she actually became surprisingly nice, apart from the times Minho decided to release his testosterones all over her, which would make Alby angry at him for being unnecessarily annoying and Jackaline herself pissed and all eye-rolly.

But apart from that she’d be the epitome of nice. So much so that Thomas and her have even had several heart-to-hearts, which seemed odd to him at first, but eventually became something to look forward to. Now she knew about him and Newt and he knew about her starting to miss Minho’s flirting as soon as they were evicted from the planning committee.

At one point Thomas started feeling guilty for taking an advantage of their hospitality and offered to go along with the food team so there’d be some point of him, but she just laughed and dismissed the idea, saying that everything was fine the way it was and he should use all his energy trying not to freak out. His point about it being potentially good for him and would take his mind off things was apparently useless and once again dismissed. Minho, Alby and Aris, though, seemed to be perfectly acceptable candidates for the position.

“Unless,” he turned around to look at her, “I could call Minho over here,” he knew his smile was almost evilly mischievous as it was meant as a tease – Minho was away on the food heist along with the others anyway.

“Fuck off, Janson,” she huffed, flipping him the bird.

“Ouch,” Thomas gripped at his heart dramatically before leaving with a laugh.

He went to sit in his favorite spot – the edge of his wagon – hoping to stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong. _It’s foolproof._ It wasn’t though. It was the opposite. One little thing going wrong, one little person fucking up and everything went south. There was no time or opportunity for trial and error. It was do or die. It was terrifying.

He’d dozed off at some point, apparently, and was dreaming of being back in The House. He knew it wasn’t real and he felt weird about missing it, since, at the time, he’d thought it to be barbaric. Minho and Alby were there solving a puzzle. Didn’t even look at him. He tried to find Newt, but all of the bedrooms were empty. _Great,_ he thought, _I don’t even get to see you in my dreams._ He was scared he’d forgotten what he looked already, but imagining that smile was far too easy. His sour grumpy face – even easier.

“Hey, loverboy,” a voice startled him awake, upon opening his eyes he realized it was Minho and he was smiling wickedly, “dinner time, come on. You can dream about Newtie later.”

Thomas jumped up hurriedly and followed his friend over to one of the last carriages which they served food in, “How did you even-“

“You talk in your sleep,” Aris pointed out, apparently having joined them at some point, startling the barely awake Thomas once more.

“Lovely,” Thomas rolled his eyes, cursing his subconscious self as they followed the sound of chatter and music, accompanied by an iridescent orangly yellow glow of the lights _. It must be Friday_ , Thomas thought.

Every Friday for the rebels was basically an excuse to wind down and forget that everything outside of the train is an absolute mess, which most of them usually do with the help of alcohol. Thomas didn’t hate this tradition, he just found it a bit useless. Why waste resources, food, energy, anything on one night that uses a week’s worth of it. _Because without Friday they’d all be miserable, sad, constantly worried, you know? This way they have something to look forward to,_ Jackaline had told him. _But isn’t being miserable a drive? Like, shit this sucks, I really gotta do all I can to fix it,_ Thomas had retorted. _I thought so, too, but turns out were never going to win this on our own. We needed The Dictator’s son._ Thomas smiled at the memory of the conversation and proceeded towards the light to get some food in him, realizing he’d skipped lunch with Jackaline and was now starved. Unlike every Friday before, this time there was no alcohol whatsoever.

It turned out to be a nice night, especially since people weren’t suspicious of them anymore, weren’t constantly looking at them with obvious anger and even disgust. Minho left the gang to go find someone to flirt with – a blonde with a resting bitch face, but she couldn’t last long until she started giggling at his jokes. Thomas looked over to Jackaline instinctively an found her glancing over to Minho and the girl once in a while before looking at Thomas and scuffing at his knowing smile.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” Jackaline said loudly, stepping onto a chair to be higher and therefore visible to everyone, “I know by now you all know our dear leader Janson’s son Thomas, who has kindly come here to help us take down his own daddy,” she pointed to Thomas as everyone cheered and Alby smacked his shoulder, “yeah, yeah, we all love him. Now. I’m not one for the overly dramatic, but here I am giving you a fucking speech. The reason behind that is that we’ve finally come up with a plan,” she announced and Thomas’ stomach fell.

He didn’t like the plan at all. He thought maybe he could persuade Jackaline to see what he saw. He hoped he’d still have time, but here she was, practically about to amp up her little army for something that was borderline insane. He had no time to marvel at that, though, as everyone was cheering again.

“Now the specifics of it are only going to matter at the moment. Right now you just need to trust me,” she smirked, “until we’re actually there, all you need is to be rested and well fed,” her smirk intensified, if that was even possible, and Thomas knew whatever she’d say next, it was going to be suicidal, “we leave at dawn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello! I think the next chapter is gonna be the last one (but there's gonna be epilogue after that) so look forward to that, I guess! Love y'all


	9. Revenge

Thomas was angry out of his mind at Jackaline. She’d gone behind his back and decided everything. Sure, she was the big boss lady around here, but he didn’t find it fair. She smiled proudly as everyone cheered. Actually fucking cheered. He scoffed, turning on his heel to leave the celebration of their oncoming definite deaths and try to get at least some sleep before having to face his evil son-of a-bitch of a father.

“Hey, Thomas!” Minho yelled after him, but he didn’t feel like turning around. His insides were boiling with rage, it felt like his ears were fuming, “dude, wait up!”

“We’re going to die tomorrow!” Thomas shouted, stopping the Asian kid in his tracks. Alby and Aris were close behind, so was Brenda. God, she looked so much like Teresa it messed with his mind constantly, “And Teresa, Chuck and Gally probably already have,” he raked his hand through his hair in desperation of what his brain was screaming at him before he voiced it, “and Newt.”

The others didn’t say anything, didn’t even come near him as he fell to the ground, landing on his ass, his hands never leaving his head, trying to hide the tears from the others, though it was pointless. It was obvious he was crying and they were his friends anyway. Who cares that he was?

“We won’t die,” Alby assured, but it sounded a bit like he was telling that to himself rather than Thomas. Of course they were scared. They were still just kids. Everyone on the train had been waiting for revenge for months, if not years. They were reckless, angry and ready to die, but all Thomas wanted was to make things right. To see the life leave his own father’s eyes. God, what had this all done to him? He just wanted Newt.

“Do you know what the plan is?” Thomas said silently, looking up to Alby. Was it just his imagination or were Brenda’s eyes sparkling with tears? “There is no plan, Albs. That’s the plan.”

They looked at him all confusion and fear. Yeah, they were beginning to understand what he means. They were beginning to understand how royally fucked they actually were.

“That’s why no one’s being briefed about it. The plan is to go there, be greeted by God knows how many armed, trained soldiers and a sociopathic asshole and just…shoot and hope for the best.”

He realized he had no idea how many men were going to be there. He had no idea how many men they had. Others were coming, that’s what Jackaline had said, but the thing was that he had no idea. Their only advantage was their rage and the hope that five a.m. could provide at least some element of surprise.

“Look,” Aris said, making everyone turn to him. He was never the motivational speaker. If anything, he was the most scared of them all, “Jackaline has kept these people alive and safe for like three years. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

“Hey,” a voice called out and as Thomas recognized it, he jumped to his feet to leave, “can you help bring the children to the suburbs? We need all the protection we can get,” Jackaline said, looking right at Minho, “they shouldn’t be there tomorrow.”

Thomas’ anger was boiling inside of him, but he was too done with her to actually converse with her. “Neither should we,” Thomas said instead and walked away, leaving them to whatever.

He sat on the edge of his carriage – the place that had subconsciously become his favorite as he could see everything and everyone from there – and watched as the excitement buzzed in the air. Grown men were acting little kids on Christmas. This was insane. Weren’t they at least a bit scared? All dressed in leather, buff and tuff, but surely they had something rational still inside.

“Worried?” a soft, girly voice startled him.

“Hey, Sonya,” he knew he sounded like he was about to be neutered, scared out of his mind, but at this point who cared? There was no point in trying to keep his dignity on the last night of his life.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked without a care I the world, but still wary of his feelings, sitting down next to him so close that any other person would’ve made him uncomfortable, but she…she was Sonya.

Thomas sighed, “Missing your brother, mostly.”

“I feel you,” she rested her head on his shoulder and he pulled her into a side hug. If this was the closest he’d get to Newt until his death, he’ll take it. At this point, he’ll take anything. If someone told him Newt had written something for him in the stars, he’d take that.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked after a moment of warmth and safeness, “that we’re going to die?”

“I don’t know, Sonya,” he huffed, “I don’t thing I want to live in a world like this anyway.”

“In a world like what?” she asked, her head still resting in the crook of his neck, fitting together perfectly.

“The last thing he said to me was that he loves me and we’ll meet here,” he winced at the pain the memory caused him, “he knew where to go, Sonya.”

“In a world without my brother,” she stated and became still and silent for the longest moment, making Thomas afraid he’d hurt her, but she hadn’t seen him in months. He was sure she’d decided that all on her own. “I don’t think he’s dead,” she said and paused as if thinking, “I’d know.”

Thomas didn’t dare oppose. In all honesty he didn’t think Newt was dead, either. They were too smart as a group to get themselves killed. They were too valuable as hostages to get themselves murdered. Besides, he knew what Sonya meant when she’d said she’d know. It just didn’t feel like it. He’d know, too.

“…READY TO RRRRUMMMMMBLEEE!” was the next thing Thomas heard. He woke up, spooning Sonya for warmth, sprawled across the floor of their carriage. It was still dark, so it felt like they’d only been out for a few minutes, when in reality he knew it had been hours. He knew what was about to happen.

Jackaline had gotten a loudhailer and was shouting inspirational shit to get everyone who’d dozed off up. Well, as inspirational as Jackaline could get.

Sonya looked confused as to why it was still dark and she was being woken up, but recognition seemed to dawn on her.

“I guess the good thing is there’s a chance I see my brother today,” she smiled hopefully.

“I don’t see an outcome where I stay alive,” Thomas said mundanely. As if that was no biggie.

“You’re our only hope. Everyone on this train is prepared to keep you alive no matter what,” she smiled proudly and straightened a crease in his shirt, “I know you don’t know me that well, but I remember everything. And you have always been nothing but kind. You have always been the opposite of your father. If you think about it, really, you have always been our only hope,” she smirked and jumped off the train, heading towards its back.

Thomas didn’t know how to feel about that. He was dumbstruck, at the least. He had never really been sure if working for his father had made him an evil, self-entitled little twat. Although, if he had been friends with someone as nerdy and insecure as Aris before, he was sure that couldn’t have been true. Still, there people held trust in him. He’d made his choice long before coming here. He was obviously the good guy. The blood traitor. Whether he liked it or not, he was their savior.

“THOMAS!” the loud, barely comprehensible voice was calling him, so he got up and headed for it, blindly heading to where Jackaline was.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she smiled and handed the loudhailer to a guy next to her, “check every carriage. We’re leaving in five,” she commanded and turned back to Thomas, “look, Tom…”

“Let’s fuck him up?” he offered, no emotion on his face whatsoever as Jackaine’s smile increased both in size and evilness.

The walk was long and tiring, but nothing, he realized, they hadn’t done before. The darkness was thick and it seemed like the sky was pure molasses. He couldn’t see a single star. It was just black. He couldn’t imagine what ungodly hour it was since morning light hadn’t even begun to creep over the horizon yet. It was pitch black all around them. As if someone had deleted everything in the universe and they were the only thing left.

Jackaline never lost her dedicated bitch face, walking right next to Thomas. He also noticed there were especially buff men gathered around them, watching the horizon carefully. Some had actual night vision goggles, most had guns that Thomas was a bit scared to even look at. He really was being protected. He really was their most valuable asset. He was their whole fucking plan.

The sky had turned a dark shade of gray and a lighter one at the edge of the earth once they’d reached the abandoned shopping mall. The debris from the east side of the building was still lying there. There was really no reason for it to have been gathered and cleaned up, but he couldn’t help but think if his friends were still lying there, having been stuck and starved to death. _He’s not dead, he’s not dead, he’s not dead…_

Thomas’ fingers were freezing and his empty stomach was making him aware of itself, so he shifted in a way that it would stop rumbling and just convinced himself he was fine.

Eventually they’d walked through the forest, the tall grass wet and cold in the early hour of the morning. He knew that once they were out they’d reached the hill that was their last obstacle on their way to The Facility. He was prepared for everything. What he hadn’t been prepared for was the mass of people waiting once they’d gotten out of the woods. Hundreds? A thousand? There was no way to tell, but Jackaline made her way to the front of their own little army to greet the young man smiling proudly at her with crossed arms. He was muscular and extremely handsome, the scars on his arms only contributing to his ruggedness. If not for Newt, he’d be all heart eyes for him, “Not bad, huh?” he asked, motioning to the insane amount of people behind him.

“Fry,” Jackaline smirked. That smirk never meant anything good.

“Jack,” the mystery guy extended his arms as she jumped right into them. He’d never heard anyone call her anything but her full name. In fact, he was sure she’d threatened to kill him in some sort of a creative way if he ever did. Minho looked confused and almost heart-broken at the sight of her being so friendly to another guy. It was weird to see him so invested into one person. He’d seemed like the one night stand type of guy, but who was he to know? He couldn’t even remember his own mother.

“Is that our hero?” the handsome devil asked, almost making Thomas blush, if he hadn’t been scared into the palest possible skin tone possible to man.

“Thomas, Fypan. Frypan, Thomas,” Jackaline smiled, holding onto Frypan’s shoulder. What a weird name, he couldn’t help but wonder how he got it. He was so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed their handshake had already ended. Man, he had to get it together.

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly. Was he making his voice lower? Frypan just smiled back at him and turned to Jackaline to discuss something.

Thomas thought everyone had been silent and listening to them intensely, since he hadn’t heard a sound other than their conversation, but found them all to be deep in discussion with one another. _Thank God._

“Who’s that?” Minho demanded, not taking his eyes off Frypan.

“Hell should I know?” Thomas said, not interested even in the slightest in Minho’s jealous rage. Lucky for him, the second Minho opened his mouth to retort, Jackaline turned back to her people.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” she started in a tone that commanded complete silence and obedience, “the moment has come. Behind this hill is our freedom and happiness. The freedom and happiness of our children and our children’s children. If not us, then who?” she asked rhetorically and a couple of guys in the back cheered in agreement, “if you’re not ready to stand with us this is your last chance to step back,” she looked over the crowd. There was no anger or shaming in her eyes. Just understanding. “But if you’re not a pussy,” she smirked again, Thomas hated that smirk, “LET’S BRING THEM DOWN!” her voice was loud enough not to need a loudhailer. Her hand was extended in the air as Frypan’s part of the army rushed over the hill, the mysterious young man right in the front, and Jackaline’s followed suit.

Minho, Alby and Aris stayed behind with Jackaline and Thomas. To his surprise Sonya had disappeared from his side, but he could see her blonde hair in the crowd. “Thomas?” Jackaline offered her hand, shaking Thomas’ when he did the same and pulling him into a hug, “you’ll do it,” she whispered. Her voice was shaking. Now he was scared. It made sense why she’d be nervous. She felt responsible for these people. She was their leader and she was sending them into certain (if not death then at least) danger.

There was a gunshot.

Then another one.

And two more.

Thomas ran up the hill to see what was happening. He hoped, nay, prayed it was their people doing to shooting and not his father’s, but they were too far to see for sure what was happening in the front. Only now did he actually get an idea of how many people they actually had.

The others had apparently joined him to see for themselves as he felt a hand on his shoulder – Minho leaning on it. “Shit,” his friend whispered.

“Hey Minho,” Jackaline said calmly and Thomas was ready to hear her tell him to shut the fuck up, “if we survive this, you’re buying me a drink,” her eyes never left the scene going down in front of them, but all three boys next to her looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. Hell, she was asking Minho out. Of course she’d gone insane. “Let’s go,” she commanded and they obliged, but Minho’s grin was probably visible all the way from The Facility.

As they neared the swarm of people in front of them, Thomas could feel his gut sinking deeper into his heels. He felt like throwing up. He hated the responsibility put on him. He hated the father he was born to.

“Any second now,” Jackaline stated, though Thomas had no clue what she’d meant, “get ready, Tom.”

 _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,_ was the only thing going through his mind.

“THOMAAAAAAAAS!” the loud yell rang through the air and everyone around him stopped. It seemed like time had stopped, as well. He wished it had, so much, that way he could just…not.

“That’s your queue,” Jackaline elaborated, moving behind him and putting something heavy in his back pocket, covering it with his jacket, “use that _only_ when needed,” she instructed.

“For what? Why?” he panicked.

“Daddy’s out,” she managed before the crowd started stepping backwards, parting to let him through, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to walk over there. His muscles had completely given out and didn’t belong to him anymore. His heart had never beaten this fast. Everyone was looking at him, so it was too late to give up and run, no matter how much he wanted to.

Before he even knew it, he was walking. He was heading straight for his father. With each step dread and fear grew into resentment and pure, white, hot rage. He despised this situation. He despised how afraid it had made him. He despised his father and everything he stood for.

He could see his face mere seconds later. Frypan nodded encouragingly at him as he passed him and shooed everyone further away, surely for their safety.

“Father,” he still had a couple of meters to cross before he could get to him, but he was anxious to punch him, gauge his eyes out, anything really.

“Good to see you, my dear son,” Janson smiled as if this was nothing out of the ordinary, “I see you’ve been doing good,” the lie was obvious, probably intended to be so. Thomas was sure he looked like shit, the sleepless nights having done no good for him, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Thomas didn’t know what to say to that. What was he supposed to demand? Was he supposed to demand anything? Was he supposed to shoot him? Was he supposed to distract him while someone shoots him? He didn’t know what to do, but he kept his gaze intense and hateful nonetheless.

“Why are you here?” his father demanded again, growing less patient with every word.

“Dad,” Thomas looked down before gazing back up with more spite I his eyes, or so he hoped, “we came here because this needs to end. _You_ need to be stopped.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?” he didn’t sound the tiniest bit worried.

“Will you give me a reason to?” Thomas challenged, apparently making Janson laugh.

“No, but I can give you a reason not to,” his smile would have seemed genuine in any other context, but now just looked cruel. He looked behind him and motioned something to one of his soldiers. Thomas wanted to ask where he was going, but thought better not. He shouldn’t challenge his luck. He couldn’t really believe he was still alive at this point. His heart was almost audibly slamming against his ribs by this point.

The soldier returned with four people behind him, dragging them along. They looked horrible, bruised and broken, but he knew instantly who they were, and he acted without thinking, pulling out the gun Jackaline had given him in a fraction of second and aimed it right at his father’s face.

Every single soldier behind Janson’s back pointed their weapon at Thomas, but Janson’s raised hand told them not to shoot, while he himself hadn’t even flinched.

“Hand them over or I will shoot you,” Thomas warned, but once again his father didn’t seem to care even in the slightest. Or was it that he didn’t believe him? Either way, he just laughed and waved his hand. The soldier pushed them forwards, but it seemed like they couldn’t believe they were actually being freed. They just awkwardly shuffled on spot, looking around nervously.

Keeping his gun aimed into his father’s face, perfectly ready for him to lash out and try and grab it from him, thinking he’d lost his focus, he met Newt’s eyes and nodded as if to say it was okay. He looked back at his father for a second, changing the loving gaze he’d given Newt to a warning, hateful one only meant for him, before stretching out his free hand towards Newt.

For a moment he thought they might not move again, but then Newt stepped forward, keeping a careful look on the soldiers, even though all of their weapons were pointed only to Thomas, and then on Janson to see if he’d give an order to shoot him, until he reached Thomas’ extended hand and grabbed it with so much strength it made Thomas happy there was still any left in his boyfriend’s body, and he didn’t even care about how painful it was, because it was Newt. He was alive and debatably well, not to mention perfectly sensible. He was here. Thomas could touch him. He was really here.

“Find Sonya,” Thomas said to him, once again not leaving his eyes from Janson’s face.

“No, Tommy, you can’t…”

“Please,” he huffed, the desperation in his boyfriend’s voice breaking his heart, “you’d do the same if I was in your place,” he tried to convince him, eyes still on his father’s face which was watching them quizzically as if unable to believe these two were serious. A smidgen of recollection accompanied the look on his father’s face, as well as the words _dear God, Thomas, it’s just a phase, will you shut up about him already?_

Newt had apparently decided he was right and stepped away, leaving his side, after he kissed his hand, earning an eye roll from Janson, and let it drop. Gally put each of his arms around chuck and Teresa protectively before following them into the crowd, or so Thomas assumed, since he was not risking looking behind him.

“How about you lower that thing now?” Janson suggested carelessly. His attitude drove Thomas insane. Why wouldn’t he take him seriously?

He lowered the gun until it was pointed right at his father’s heart, “better?” Thomas apparently felt like challenging any god that existed. If he did shoot, his odds of survival were slim, but his father’s – nonexistent.

“Why are you doing this?” Janson asked.

“Why?” Thomas cried out, “Why? Seriously? You imprisoned innocent people for not agreeing with your fucked up views.”

“Language.”

“Fuck you.”

“I saved your lives,” Janson looked bored and annoyed.

“How? By stealing our freedom? Our minds? Our identities?”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“You made us fight for our right to live by solving riddles!” Thomas yelled, realizing that’s not the worst he’d done, but it was the one that fucked him up the most. “You killed people for making mistakes, you patronized everyone that came in your way. Nothing mattered to you but power. Not even your own family. Overcompensating?”

That had done it. Something in Janson’s face shifted. It became almost sour. It made Thomas happy.

“Leave before you’re shot,” Janson warned.

“Big words from the guy being aimed at.”

“You would never shoot me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Thomas said with no emotions. And he meant it, too. He had never been this angry. He straightened his arm, “but you, on the other hand, would never shoot me.”

It was delightful to watch Janson’s face shift between emotions. It was wonderful to see him stumble to find words.

“Didn’t think so,” Thomas smiled and let his hand fall to his side. “I know your only heir to this…empire is your most valuable possession,” he knew everyone was watching with anticipation, “tell them to drop their weapons.”

His father thought it through for a while, making Thomas slightly scared he wouldn’t actually do it. For a second there he thought they’d lost. That he was about to get shot and that everything would end. That he’d die before getting to Newt for the last time.

But then he did it. He nodded and they lowered their weapons. Every. Single. One.

“On the ground,” Thomas sounded scary even to himself. Janson nodded and the soldiers obliged. “What do you say, Fry, hands behind their heads?”

“Sounds good,” a voice with an audible smile said from behind him which he assumed to be Frypans, not really sure what he actually sounded like since he’d only said about two things to him.

“Sounds good,” Thomas repeated and watched his father give in to him. He could see it in his eyes. It was weird.

It wasn’t that Thomas felt bad for the guy. He’d done so much terrible shit he well deserved it. It wasn’t because he was his father either – he couldn’t remember growing up anyway, he had no idea what his father had been like before. He had no sentiment towards him as a son. It was weird because the man had a particularly high level of self-confidence. He was a literal dictator, and right now? Right now he was scared. There was fear in his eyes, because he realized that he had raised the person that would kill him without a doubt.

“Any last words?” Thomas asked quietly. He had no interest in hearing them, he was sure he’d try and apologize anyway. It was more of a formality. Not that this man deserved any respect.

“Son, you…”

“I am no son of yours,” Thomas stated coldly.

“I’ve raised a maniac.”

“I got it from you.”

Janson closed his eyes and winced, waiting for the worst. Thomas did not want to feel as cold blooded as he did. He hated that part of himself. He hated the hunger for vengeance, but then he remembered this man had locked his friends up for disbelieving in him, he’d locked his boyfriend up for being his boyfriend, he’d locked his own sun up before letting him out with the promise he’d work with him on the most sadistic scheme Thomas had ever heard of. He had toyed with people’s lives. Just. Because. He could.

Thomas put his weapon down and stepped back. Janson’s eyes were still closed, he looked terrified.

“I’m sure he’s done worse to you. There must be someone who has waited for this opportunity for years,” Thomas yelled and put his gun up, dangling it from his finger, “this is your chance. Last and only one.”

No one moved. The air seemed thick and everyone seemed frozen. It was almost painfully quiet.

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Jackaline stepped to the front and Thomas looked at her quizzically, relentlessly handing her her own gun which she had given him mere minutes ago.

“Hello, Daniel,” she said, stepping in front of him and checking her bullets, “remember me?”

He looked confused at first, but recognition took over his face pretty quickly. Thomas was just as curious as he assumed everyone else around him was. He wasn’t quite confused. He had always known, somewhere in his subconscious, that Jackaline must have a reason to be a leader of this huge chunk of the opposition. That there must be something his father had done to her in particular.

“In case you’ve forgotten,” she said calmly, cracking her neck and putting the gun right up to his forehead, “I was the kid whose parents you had executed,” Thomas could see the barrel digging into Janson’s forehead, “right in front of me.”

Jesus Christ.

Suddenly Thomas was wondering how old she was. He assumed she was somewhere around twenty, but apparently she must have been under. Nineteen? Maybe eighteen.

“You remember, right? They were your friends. They loved you like a brother. Remember that?” she asked, so close to him the tension terrified Thomas. Jackaline always terrified him at least a little, but this was something new. “DO YOU REMEMBER?” she yelled.

“Yes,” he answered no less loudly. He knew this was it. There was no more pride to protect. There was no legacy to worry about.

“Say it. Say the name they called me. Say the name you called me when you brought your son over for playdates. SAY IT!”

Playdates? Thomas was lost now. She’d known him? This whole time she’d known him? Was she protecting him? Had she never trusted him at all?

“Jackie,” he whispered, surely loud enough for only the closest to them to hear, “Jackie, please.”

Thomas knew she wouldn’t back out. He knew she despised him. He could beg and beg, but her intentions were set.

“MURDERER!” someone from the crowd yelled.

“KILLER!” someone else shouted. Soon enough everyone was yelling profanities. Everyone finally feeling free to speak their minds.

“Have you been wondering why not one of your men has tried to pick up his weapon and try and get me or Thomas off you?” Jackaline inquired almost manically quietly, “Do you think it’s because their allegiance never stood with you?” Janson looked around him, the masked soldiers behind him standing like statues, and Thomas realized none of them had moved or attempted anything this whole time, “are you starting to realize the only thing you could keep over their heads was threatening their families and their own safety? Are you wondering if you’re the only one to protect your own fucked up ideology?” her face was so close to Janson’s they must have been touching, although Jackaline would never touch him.

“You don’t deserve the easy way out,” she stated and shot.

Everything went quiet again.

But his father screamed. He was still alive. He fell to his knees, but, Thomas realized, only because Jackaline had shot him in his leg, apparently having pointed the gun away from his face at the last moment.

“You don’t deserve to just die, Daniel!” she shouted to be heard over his cries of pain, “you deserve to be punished. You deserve to fight for your own right to live another day,” the smirk in her voice was audible, proving its existence once she turned to smile at Thomas who’d understood what she meant. She wanted to punish him. She wanted him to fear every single day. She wanted him to be alone and vulnerable and to prove how smart he was. She wanted to put him in The House.

And he knew right then

He would comply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The last chapter!   
> Sure took me a good minute.  
> The epilogue is coming your way as soon as I write it, I promise.  
> Thank you to everyone who's stuck around to read this, it means the world to me. I still can't believe someone actually cares about my stories.  
> Not saying goodbye, cuz I'll do that when the epilogue comes. Bye bye now.


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

“Fine, but I want nothing to do with it. I want nothing to do with him,” Thomas groaned at Brenda, rubbing his temples.

“Yes, Jesus, I’m aware. You said that like a hundred times, jackass,” she rolled her eyes, dotting something down on a clipboard and struggling to catch up to him as he hurried down a hallway. Jackaline had made her her right hand as the proclaimed current leader of the new society. She hadn’t been too happy to be in charge, afraid she’d get too power-drunk and become the same as Janson, but Thomas had refused to take his father’s place and everyone seemed to trust Jackaline after how fairly she’d handled the whole revolution situation just two days prior. “But can I tell her you’re on board? Like, is she allowed to put him there?”

“Bren,” he stopped suddently, putting his hands on her shoulders and trying to calm her down – it was obvious she had a crapload of work and fighting with Thomas was probably not her number one priority, “I really don’t give a shit about him. She can do to him whatever she pleases, just keep _me_ out of it,” he smiled, realizing he really didn’t care. All he cared about was seeing Newt again, who had been in the hospital wing for almost three days straight along with the rest of his friends who’d been with him.

“He’s _your_ father,” Brenda called out after him once he’d continued marching down the corridor again, “God, she’s gonna be the end of me,” Thomas heard her mutter. He did feel bad for her. Sure, it was an honor to be the most important person to the most important person in the country, but it had been work pretty much non-stop for her, while Jackaline tested every single person who worked in The Facility for Janson with a truth serum to see who their alliance stood with. Thomas had asked if truth serum wasn’t a fictional thing, but Jackaline had just smirked at him in that scary way that she does and Thomas hadn’t wanted to know more.

But right now he didn’t care about anyone else. Right now he was strutting to the hospital wing after being told _they’re awake_ while playing chess with Aris and listening to Alby’s subconscious rambling as he slept. All they were doing for hours, really, was killing time until they could see their friends. Minho, on the other hand, hadn’t left Jackaline’s side for days, not that she seemed to mind. “We’ll get Minho, you go agead,” Alby had told him and he ran.

He had been given a card that unlocked every room in the building, so perhaps he felt a bit more important than he should’ve, but at this exact moment the card was the last thing on his mind. It was only important to him because it lead him right to Newt.

“Good evening,” he said to the woman who apparently was a kind of a receptionist for the medical wing.

“Go in,” she said carelessly, knowing that was what he was here for, as he’d come to check on Newt almost every hour until she’d had enough of him and told him to go away, literally anywhere else, and she’d call him as soon as one of them was awake.

“Thanks,” he said without stopping and practically ran straight in, anticipation burning at his ears, “hey, doctor Cooper,” he greeted the nice lady who had been treating them and continued on past her as she smiled knowingly and pointed to one of the doors behind her.

The whole medical wing was lit up and bright, the white walls and furniture not really helping Thomas’ eyes which had grown used to the dimness of his bedroom. He looked around a room that was painfully similar to the one he’d woken up in a few months ago with his father looming over him, but he shook the memory away as he saw four tired, but smiling frames in the far end of the room, chatting away, thankfully not looking too down.

As he rushed over he saw Gally notice him and grin, making Newt turn around to see what Gally was smiling at. He was still bruised and looked even skinnier than before, but he was alive. And he was here.

Thomas stopped in his tracks, sighing in relief. He still couldn't believe it. He'd gotten so used to the idea of something bad having had happened and he'd grown accustomed to being without him that looking at him seemed bizarre. But when Newt started getting up and he noticed the cast on his leg, he ran over to stop him from exhausting himself. Every step felt like years, he was just so eager to get to him. He crushed into his body, wrapping his arms around him and inhaling deeply as if to remind himself how his boyfriend smelled. As if to ensure he was here. Newt chuckled and hugged him back tightly, once again making Thomas glad he was strong enough and that he hadn't forgotten Thomas yet.

“Are you okay? How do you feel? What did they do to you?” Thomas asked, pulling apart and cupping his boyfriend’s cheeks to look him over.

“I’m fine, Tommy,” Newt laughed, but not for long as Thomas pulled him in for possibly the fiercest and hungriest kiss they’d ever shared. Maybe he was imagining it, but he could swear he heard his blood pumping through his veins. He had no idea how much he'd missed this. How much he'd missed _him._

“Excuse you,” Gally made them aware of the others and they finally pulled apart before Thomas pulled them all into a hug, too.

“Christ, I’m so glad you’re all okay,” he stated, one hand still on Newt’s knee and the other lightly slapping Chuck’s cheek.

Minho and Alby burst in with Jackaline and Aris following suit. They rushed over and started hugging and welcoming them back as well, though Newt’s hand was still grasping Thomas', making him unable to leave his side. Not that he ever wanted to again. “I’ll go get Sonya,” Jackaline squeezed Minho’s shoulder and left.

“Who’s that?” Gally asked Minho with a wink.

“I know, right?” Minho said excitedly. Thomas just smiled, sure his friend had never been this excited about a girl before.

"Does that make you the new king?" Alby mocked as Aris stifled a laugh.

“Sonya?” Newt turned to Thomas, hope and disbelief sparkling in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Thomas kissed the top of Newt’s head, “yeah, she’s all good.” He didn’t feel like addressing Newt’s inability to remember he’d seen her just a couple of days ago. He had probably been in shock back then and his brain might still be fuzzy from the medicine.

“So what the hell happened?” Teresa asked and Alby plopped down on the opposite bed to re-tell everything in great detail. They avoided talking about what had happened to the other four meanwhile, but _it's obvious that wasn't no walk in the park_ , Thomas thought, looking over Newt’s bruised face. It made him feel concerned and furious, but he knew all that could be done was already being done and he just had to trust Jackaline’s judgement.

At some point Sonya and Jackaline joined in, letting Newt hold her in a protective yet lazy side-hug while Alby continued on about everything that had happened, Minho and Jackaline adding their own comments, but Thomas stayed silent, resting his head on Newt’s shoulder, just enjoying the moment in case it’s all a dream. Neither of them asked who Jackaline was, nor did they ask for her backstory, they’d found out enough when she’d confronted Janson in front of everyone and it was obviously enough, especially since her and Minho seemed inseparable at this point.

Thomas noticed Teresa listening intently, and, without noticing it, having leaned against Gally and holding his hand. He nodded his head towards them questioningly, “When did that happen?” he asked Newt in a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” Newt said absently, looking towards them, “I don’t really understand how or when, but it’s a thing now,” he whispered, “but don’t ask them about it, they won’t appreciate that,” he warned, making Thomas laugh.

He left Newt with Sonya to catch up and went to his bedroom to tidy up as Newt, along with the others, was allowed to leave as soon as he wanted and Thomas had decided that he’ll be taking him over from now on, excited to spend as much time as possible together.

It still looked the same as when they’d lived there months back, after getting out of The House – Newt’s books splattered around the room on every surface, both their clothes piling in one corner, Thomas’ codes and old plans for the tests and riddles half ripped, half tucked away behind other things on his desk so he wouldn’t have to remember it – and he couldn’t decide whether to clean it up or leave it as is, so Newt felt more comfortable in a familiar environment.

He decided to put the clothes away and to throw away the old papers and folders he didn’t even want to see, but leave all of Newt’s things as they were, since he hadn’t dared to touch them for the previous three days, so why would he move them now? He was looking over the room just as the door opened and Newt stumbled in, crutches helping him, though he obviously wasn’t used to them yet and they were more of an inconvenience rather than anything else.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Thomas chuckled as Newt held the door open with one hand and grasping both of the crutches in the other, “let me help you, please,” he smiled as Newt sighed in disappointment in himself, took both crutches in his own hand and grabbed a hold of Newt’s waist, letting him hold onto his shoulder and helped him limp in and sit on the bed.

“Sorry, I suck at this,” Newt laughed as Thomas put the crutches down next to the bed in case Newt wanted to go somewhere and plopped down on the bed next to his boyfriend, letting him snuggle up to him, “you have no idea how much I missed this.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” Thomas said quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet. It was nice to just hear Newt breathe next to him again. It was painfully satisfying having him back. As if a heavy, crushing weight had fallen off his chest and he felt so light he could faint.

“Oh yeah, that, too,” Newt said absently and giggled as Thomas punched him in his side, “ow, ow, ow, bruised ribs,” Newt whined, making Thomas freeze. _Idiot, how could you do that? Had him back for three seconds and already causing more damage than anything else,_ he thought to himself.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” Thomas sat up, placing his hand on Newt’s side carefully.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you,” Newt grinned and Thomas attacked him again, but not for long as Newt pulled him in for another kiss. It was just as needy as the one before, but it felt like it was their first. Their longing and thirst for each other had finally gotten a chance to burst out and after being apart for this long they knew they could never let that happen again, no matter what happens.

It was like home although he'd never known home other than The House or The Facility. All he knew was that his home had always been with Newt right next to him. And that was never changing again. Not if he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God! It's done! It's finished! What?!?!?!?!?!?  
> This has been quite the journey and it was mostly written at two am, but oh man, am I glad it's all here.   
> Thank you to everyone who's enjoyed it, I hope I didn't fuck up your perception of Newtmas.  
> I've got plans for new stuff, in case anyone's interested in sticking around.   
> Anyways, huge thanks to everyone who liked this for even a second and also the ones who stuck around til the end.  
> Much love,  
> P.


End file.
